


Throne for a Queen

by CoffeeAndTae



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndTae/pseuds/CoffeeAndTae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayahina + Face sitting</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throne for a Queen

**Author's Note:**

> hi im ayahina trash. enjoy.

With Ayato, it was best to always expect the unexpected - be prepared for anything. While that held true mostly with missions and gauging his temper, it also held true in bed. Hinami loved that about him, mostly because they were both new to physical affection and they were learning their own bodies on top of learning one another’s, and Ayato was always… eager.

He was never domineering, nor did he ever force her into things she didn’t want, but he gave her the extra push that she needed to feel comfortable not just with him, but with herself. They were both fucking terrified when it came right down to it, but with each other, that fear of the unknown seemed to pale in comparison.

When he was with her, he gave her a strong sense of security, and like she always had someone to watch her back. He was always there at the end of the day to lend a hand, a shoulder, and eventually his lips. He was her moonlight, strong and dark, full of uncertainties, but beautiful to the very core and as luminous as any star.

If he was her moonlight, she was his sunlight, drenching every aspect of his life in a warm, buttery light and warming him to the core. She made him truly happy. She, for the first time in his life, was something constant and something that was so unpredictably predictable, and he felt safe. When they were around each other, it was like nothing else existed. Every poisonous thought and daunting fear looming in a dark cloud over their heads dissipated - they were each other’s sanctuary.

Because they felt safe with one another, they also felt like they could tell each other anything. Hinami was a little more insistent on this in the emotional realm, always asking Ayato how he was feeling and how she could make him better even if he was just the slightest bit peeved. With Ayato, it was more in the physical realm of their relationship. He was a hot blooded young adult, as was she, but he always asked her how she felt, how he could make her feel good, and if she wanted to try something.

Neither one pushed or forced - they simply fell into place like some fucked up puzzle, and they just got each other. There was an understood unspoken bond between the two of them, and even outsiders could plainly see how drawn they were to one another.

So, when Ayato was naked as the day he was born, hovering over his small, delicate bird and sucking galaxies on her neck in blotchy patterns, he stopped his ministrations to look up at her with burning eyes.

“Hina, can we try something?”

She was red in the face, mostly from pleasure, but partially from her innocence, which she still maintained no matter how many times they were intimate. She rubs the spot that he’d abandoned on her neck, grazing her fingertips along the tingling skin where his mouth had just been and says shyly,

“Try what?”

He smiles at her, a true, honest-to-god genuine smile and she fucking melts. He looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world, the only thing he needs, and the only thing he wants. She is the gravity that holds his world together, and it destroys her in every good possible way.

“Will you… erm, willyousitonmyface,” He rushes out, cheeks heating up even in spite of the fact that he has far less shame than she does.

“Wh-What?” Hinami blinks, and the cute, innocent expression on her face kind of kills him.

“Will you… sit… on my face.” He says slowly, ears no fire and eyes flicking away from her gaze.

“Won’t that - Why - Won’t that be uncomfortable?”

“Just - fuck - how do I - here, just -” He splutters out, running a free hand through his messy hair.

Hinami bites her lip at the sight - his hair is an odd fixation of hers, and he never lets her live it down.

“I’m going to lay back - and you - you - you know the rest.” He explains, switching their positions and rolling off of her to get comfortable.

It’s awkward as hell and a pregnant silence fills the room as they try position themselves properly, and Hinami’s face is so red, Ayato would worry she was choking if this were in any other context. Hinami looks down at Ayato when she’s straddling his waist, then immediately hides her face in her hands.

“I caaaaaaaan’t!” She whines, her voice muffled behind her palms.

“Why not? We don’t have to, but I just - I’ve always wanted this -”He cuts himself off, worrying he’s said too much, and Hinami peeks at him from behind her fingertips.

“You what? You’ve … you’ve thought about this?”

“Fuck - yeah - like… all the time?” His voice is low and raspy, and it’s mostly because he’s kind of losing his mind at the sight of her naked body perched on top of his - that was a sight he never got tired of. “If you’re self conscious, don’t let that stop you, you’re really beautiful. Super… fucking cute.”

He was a slave for this girl and he didn’t even really mind that. She was his queen, and he wanted nothing more than to service her in any way he could. His face would be her throne.  
Hinami went even redder, if that was even within the realm of possibility, and pried her trembling hands from her face.

“So, I just -”

Ayato placed his hands on her hips and tugged, beckoning for her to move up. She did as he instructed, allowing him to move her to his will, and gasped when she felt his hot breath against her, shivering at the feeling.

“What if I - I don’t want to suffocate you!”

She worried about the cutest things.

“I want this. Please, can I do this?” He’s all but begging, and Ayato Kirishima never begs.

“Yes,” She breathes, and it’s so quiet, that she’s almost inaudible, but Ayato hears, and it’s enough for him.

He starts slowly. He’s only eaten her out a handful of times, but he learned pretty quickly that it’s best to ease into it. Besides, call him sick, but he likes working her up until she’s begging him, because the sound of his name ripped from her throat is like a symphony for his ears, and he’d never get over it. His tongue darts out slowly, and he drags it up her slit, collecting a small amount of liquid and letting it spread across his tongue. She was sweet in essence and personality and he could devour her right then and there, but he would pace himself.

She wriggled atop him and reached out blindly to grab the headboard for support, already a trembling, squriming mess. He fought the urge to smile and focused instead on finding her clitoris, and it didn’t take long. He flicked his tongue against it once, twice, then three times, taking in the soft little whimpers she was making and reveling in them before he went even further. The buildup was his favorite part. She was his own, personal instrument, and whenever he stroked the right spot or plucked a tightly wound string just right, she made such sweet music for him, and he’d never get tired of it.

Like an instrument, practicing made perfect, and he was nearly a master at his art. He was shockingly attentive, and most people wouldn’t think that because of his bratty, arrogant disposition. But, he listened, and he listened damn good. He listened for the sound of her breath catching, listened for the soft whimper that could barely be detected, and he listened for the call of his name and those sweet, sweet moans she made only for him.

She gasped when he sucked her clitoris into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud and pressing her so hard against his face she feared he would actually stop breathing. Her head spun and everything in the room was blurring together, all she knew was his tongue was working magic and she was desperately fighting the urge to not grind against his face. He hated that she held back. His hands found her ass and he pressed her more insistently against his face, lapping at her like she was the best thing he’d ever tasted and he was ravenous. She couldn’t hold back anymore, and the pitch of her moans increased and increased untils he was sighing his name and begging for more, she didn’t know what more she wanted, she just know she needed it, and she needed it now, and Ayato was only too happy to oblige. Her hips rocked against him and he buried his face between her legs, driving his tongue inside of her, and it was like a cyclone. She begged and pleaded,

“Ayato, please- I can’t - I can’t take it anymore.”

He could feel her thighs quaking like crazy around his head and he noted that by the way she was singing his name that she was so, so close. Not exactly famed for his mercy, Ayato redoubled his efforts and his tongue was a blur, working her and stroking a spot that made her vision go black, and soon, she was unable to support herself. The force of her orgasm scared her, and she’d never felt like this before, even if Ayato was always good at tending to her needs. The pressure, the heat and his touch were too much, and she all but burst into flames, keening and moaning out nonsense until her cute voice went hoarse.

Ever loving boyfriend he was, Ayato held onto her firmly, holding her up so she wouldn’t fall off the bed. He didn’t stop the movements of his tongue until she was completely finished, body trembling and limp, limbs robbed of all energy and brain leeched of any rational thoughts. She slumped, and Ayato moved her further down his chest until she was at her initial position down his hips. He winced at the wet, delicious feeling of her heat against him. He was painfully hard and going down on her always did that to him, but she was too tired and exhausted to continue for the time being, and he was content holding her and stroking her hair until the trembling stopped. His lips found hers, and she sighed. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. The kiss was not rough or demanding, but slow and sensual. They could communicate thoughts they couldn’t articulate, and the familiarity of their lips was comforting and provided solace. She lifted her head for a moment to look at him, to study those icy eyes of his to see what he was thinking, but she found no ice. She founded melted glaciers and pure love shining in them, and she didn’t need to say anything because they both knew.

“Go to sleep, dumbass.” Ayato muttered, his voice anything but harsh. “I love you.”

Hinami rested her head against his chest and Ayato kissed the top of her head, some of her hairs plastering to his lips. He still smiled. She was his queen, and he was loyal to the very core for her.

He was home.


End file.
